


lesson

by sunfish



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunfish/pseuds/sunfish
Summary: Catching up over drinks.Huge spoilers forThe Golden Circle.





	lesson

**Author's Note:**

> I just saw this damn movie today and I just love these two??? (The movie has.... _flaws_ , but I mostly had a good time haha.) I wish they had more screen time and development but holy shit, I'm just thankful they both got to live, let alone BOTH be agents now. Anyway, I just wanted to get this out while the movie was fresh in my mind. I know they didn't interact much so I had to cobble together a dynamic and some headcanons. (Listen, I just think them kissing would Extremely Good. Unfortunately, there's no kissing in this fic, I apologize.)
> 
> Anyway, let me know if there's any typos or mistakes to correct, thank you!
> 
> Last edited 10/23/17.

They don’t see each other for some time. The new alliance puts him in London, helping out with the rehabilitation of Kingsman. Meanwhile, her new position means she darts around between Kentucky and elsewhere. There’s still the meetings that include everyone of course, formal and informative, but those don’t count.

So when their paths cross in a Dublin pub, the night before a new mission assignment, Tequila greets her with, “It’s been a while.” He slides onto a barstool and removes his derby hat.

“It has.”

Tracing the edge of her glass of rum with a finger, she looks him up and down. Whiskey knew he dressed differently now, but it’s strange to see him in something that…fits, rather than hangs.

He notices and smirks. “You like what you see?”

She lets a out a light laugh. “You wish. It’s just funny to see you dressed up like that.”

“Really now?” he says with a raised eyebrow. “This _posh_ getup don’t suit me?”

Tequila’s dragged out drawl on “posh” makes her laugh more. “No, no. I guess I got too used to the cowboy hat.”

He chuckles. “Well, I can get that. There’s plenty of change to get used to lately.”

Whiskey nods quietly. There’s no gloom to his words but they both know these changes haven’t come with ease.

After ordering a scotch for himself, he asks, “That reminds me, how’s being out in the field treatin’ you?”

"Good." She looks at her glass. “It’s different though. I used to have a view of basically _everything_. I could see and control so much but now I can’t, not in the same way. I’m thankful for the tech knowledge I have, but my priorities have changed. Not that I didn’t prioritize Statesman before, but y’know, there’s a difference between…being behind a screen and being behind a gun.” Whiskey finishes her drink. “It’s exactly what I’d hoped for.”

Tequila’s smile is warm. “Glad to hear that. It’s good to have an agent like you around.”

She smiles back, bright but soft. “Thank you.”

Tequila takes a sip of his drink and savors it. Silence falls between them but not an uncomfortable one. There’s simply not much to talk about now until they’re briefed on the new mission tomorrow.

“Say, speaking of,” he begins, “I never—” He pauses. Scratches the back of his neck. Lets out a breath Whiskey didn’t notice he was holding. “I never thanked you properly.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me. While I was…” Tequila lets the sentence fall. Whiskey suspects his pride won’t let him finish it.

She nods. “You’re welcome. You’re a good agent and you do a lot of good work. It’s only fair to pay back the favor.”

He doesn’t nod or laugh. Instead he says, “I guess. I just know I shouldn’t have—” he grimaces, “I shouldn’t have put myself in a place like that.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Tequila turns the scotch glass in his hand. The silence that falls over them is heavier this time and Whiskey doesn’t know if this is the end of the conversation. Then he answers.

“I’ve been thinking about what Whiskey—Jack, what Jack said.”

She blinks. They all know what happened. The two Galahads had testified about Jack’s betrayal and there was plenty of footage from Poppy’s security systems to back up their story. Video and audio. At the time, all that Whiskey felt was shock and rage, that someone would throw Statesman and everything they stood for under the bus, that someone would let so many tragedies happen because of his own singular pain. Eventually, her rage transformed into mournful acceptance and sharper eyes. People died all the time and every death imparted a lesson. Betrayal was simply a rarer casualty to learn from.

Tequila didn’t say much during that debriefing and then after a quick congratulations on her promotion, he was off on a plane to England.

“Why?”

“I know I’m a bit more reckless than y’all would like me to be. But usually, I’m right and I get shit done,” he shrugs, “As long as I do that, I can do what I want.”

His head droops a little and he takes a sip of scotch.

“But I put y’all in danger. I wasn’t there and I should’ve been, and that made it easier for Jack to do what he did.” He sighs. “I saw how much those guys lost over in London before they came to us, and how much they lost even after coming to us. Who knows what else he would’ve done just so we didn’t get that antidote.”

His face scrunches up into something pained. “I don’t know if I should still be here.”

Whiskey can read between the lines. Her heart sinks.

“Tequila, that wasn’t your fault. Poppy was the one who put poison in her drugs, not you. Jack tried to let those people die, not you. Doing that stuff… _is_ risky. That’s just how it is right now, so you should be careful. But…that doesn't make the people who exploit that risk right. That’s why we’re here, doing what we do. And I agree, you _do_ get shit done, because you learn. I still remember your first rookie mistakes. Remember Santiago?”

He snickers at that. “I’d never forget that. I still feel bad for that delivery company sometimes.”

“Exactly. And I know you won’t forget this, but don’t take away the wrong idea here. Besides, as long as you believe in us, we’ll believe in you, and watch out for you.” She places a hand on Tequila’s arm.

He looks at her and for a moment they just stare at each other. Then he quickly grins and says in a singsong voice, “Is that a promise, sweetheart?”

She smiles and gently whaps him on the shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better.”

He smirks and finishes his scotch. He gives his glass a pensive look. “I’ll admit, this stuff ain’t too bad but it don’t measure up to our stuff back home.”

She rolls her eyes. “How much have you even tried?”

Tequila almost looks offended. “Hey now, I’ve been on this side of the Atlantic for _months_. You think I could go dry that long?”

“I think you might spending too much from your allotted personal stipend on importing ‘our stuff’ over here.”

That definitely catches him by surprise. He just about stands up from his barstool. “How do you know that? I thought you weren’t s’posed to track that kind of data anymore.”

“ _Well_ , in addition to my new responsibilities, I’ve been helping our new Ginger Ale transition into her role. You’ve seen her, she’s doing well, but sometimes she wants a second pair of eyes and I’m there. And it’s not as if I’m barred from seeing that information.”

Even though Whiskey is shorter than Tequila, it feels like she’s staring him down, like the winner of an unsaid competition.

He clicks his tongue and chuckles. “Some things don’t change.”

“I suppose so.”


End file.
